


Airplanes

by filthyvictorian



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthyvictorian/pseuds/filthyvictorian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Home is where the heart is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Airplanes

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by http://soveryvantastic.tumblr.com/post/73746468117/yo-aoba-dont-get-into-any-trouble-in-germany

It was 11:05 in the morning when Koujaku watched his best friend (nothing more, nothing less) disappear towards the boarding gates, beyond where those there to see their loved ones off were allowed to go. 

"Yo, Aoba!" he had shouted just before he was out of sight. The boy had turned to listen. "Don’t get into any trouble in Germany, you hear? I won’t be there to save you."

Aoba had laughed and said, “same to you!” Noiz had given him a dirty look which Koujaku didn’t care to reciprocate. His attention was focused on Aoba, even after the two had gone.

At 11:42AM, Koujaku was back at home. He had walked Tae back to her house; on any other day the woman probably would have protested, but today she didn’t mind. She had invited Koujaku to stay for dinner but he declined, coming up with some excuse about having to get back to the shop, that he’d just shut it down for the morning so he could see his friend off. This had been a lie, of course. Koujaku just didn’t want anybody around when he cracked.

It was 11:53 when the first tear fell. It was followed by another, then another, a seemingly endless cascade of droplets falling from his eyes. They were selfish tears. He should be happy for his friend — Aoba was off to explore the world with somebody he loved, following in his parents’ footsteps. It just hurt that that somebody wasn’t him. It hurt so much that he could barely stand it, like something had caught his heart in an icy, unrelenting grip. He regretted that he hadn’t told Aoba his feelings sooner. Of all the things he regretted — and there were many things he regretted — he thought that might be the one he regretted the most. Because now he was alone. He was left only with regret and anger and sadness and an empty home — no, an empty house. His home was gone. And the only person he had to blame was himself.


End file.
